This Refuses to work...hopefullynowITwill.
.::So I have gotten a few complements and requests for a sequal of my "Im so fucking horney blog..." Here goes...The Night is far from over, rather just beginning. Similar to the love we share for each other, the morning lust shall mutter...Here I lay inside her broken scars, her luscious laminated lips that lay ajar, call upon my dwelling, my mold made of mouth. The heated silence of the room causes goosebumps to bloom, she pants in anticipation. The thrust of her hips, the curl of my lips, the sensual screams, the dirty pipe dreams, its all there for her, for her pleasure her craving...this SEX im delaying. Just sitting there, watching her in awe as the puncturing passionate moans roar from her jaw. She summons me inside her, her heart not at all, but rather my fingers curled up in a ball, the sweat slowly lingers her chest it expands, as i loose my self completely and fall into her hands. Pondering in depth for hope of no regret, but why be the need when i crave such beauty? My body hardens, breathing exceeds, salivating compulses to the last drop of my being. Taste I do want, her silk her fruit her deep draining juices of delight, filling me completely. Fucking is a fancy, a fantastic past time, but scissors stress nothing better than feeling her godded foreskin mending mine. Avoidance of biting ones lip is physicially impossible, if she wont, ill do it for her, just beg for more. Please, fucking howl in my ear, thrust your pelvis at my pace, massage your breasts on each side of my face. I want all of you, consumption is key, I dont relase such eternal being for free... These lips arent all i want, not just the fruit of your womb, not the inner cry that lies inside a hidden tomb. You facinate me, liberate me, call me on a new, unlock closed doors that were never to pass through. Whats hidden is always there, it is always present, like waves of sea breeze giving to me by undesired pleasures. Eyes above and beyond the sea, above and beyond all permanant meditation of all trees, it is the truth that gives one life, one light. Make love to my eyesight. I need a source of compassion, rather than a souce calling a terrible disaster. Your upside down glances are yet gone, and here I am in silence writing this undone song. Just appreciate the eyes, the ones that tell you lies, the truth of all womankind, and such falter in ones mind. Its lovely to attain such a gift, one that has been passed down the bleeding beauty of lives that have once lived...all that was ever wanted, ever needed was never there, all that could have been has been left in disdrought dispair. Love no longer matters when the truth is ours face, unless you meet the one true soul that will complete that empty space. And here I await, falling from this earth and aching for this simple satisfying silcence of rebirth. Just wallow in the eyelashes of love.::. (Mind you this is of no one specific, just something that needed to be expressed)